Spending time with my grandparents was always a magical space for me and I dare say my cousins as well. When my brother and I were young, we would spend a week with our paternal grandparents up at the lake and a week with our maternal grandparents at their home each summer. We loved those visits. There were so many special moments our grandparents made for us.
On my Dad’s side, our grandfather would take us fishing despite his intense fear of the water – something I never knew until I was an adult. He helped out at a local dairy farm and would often take us to visit so we could interact with the cows and horses on the farm. Our grandmother would make fried dough for breakfast, homemade pizza, and homemade cavatelli. I would sit with her and roll the pasta with my fingers and chat up a storm – she was an incredible gossip! She always made me my favorite chocolate pie. It was rare that my grandmother was anywhere other than creating something in the kitchen. We all had our favorites and she made sure she made that for each one of us. Fridays were declared her day off which was dubbed “Clean out the refrigerator day” instead of cooking we had whatever was left over from the week. On my Mom’s side, we would spend hours in the pool at our grandparent’s house with our cousins – our favorite past time walking around the perimeter of the pool until we had a massive whirlpool going – there were a lot of us (I was the oldest of 7 which eventually became 12 which then eventually became 14 as my aunts and uncles got married and more kids were added to the mix) and we could really get it moving. The ice cream man was about the only thing that could get us out of that pool. My grandmother would pass out change when we heard the music from the truck coming down the street and we would run and wait in the front of the house to pick out something cold and sweet. She would make us pancakes in the morning and make blanket forts for us with card tables. My grandfather drove a truck for Roadway and often got home later in the evening and we would all vie to be the one to get him his shot of Schenley’s. They would let us stay up as late as we wanted watching all sorts of shows we couldn’t watch at home. Wonderful memories of moments I will always treasure!
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AuthorThese are my thoughts, personal stories, and personal opinions. Often triggered by something that transpires throughout the course of a day. Archives
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